I Cannot Lose You
by AnneHutchenson
Summary: Michael reacts to nearly losing Fiona. Warning: Story contains spanking.


"You almost got yourself killed today Fiona!" Michael's voice echoed through the loft in anger tinged with fear.

"Michael stop being melodramatic," Fiona dismissed licking the spoon of the last tastes of blueberry flavored yogurt and tossing the empty container into the trash. She had listened to Michael rant for the last twenty minutes and it was getting old.

"We had a plan…"

"No you had a plan," she interrupted in a voice loud enough to overshadow his own.

"You were reckless!" Michael's voice grew in fury.

"I took action to deal with a group of murdering thugs, which was a hell of lot more than you were doing!"

Michael had long been accustomed to her lethal combination of fearlessness, impatience and explosively hot temper. This time had been different. This time he had stood little more than a hundred yards away and watched a man raise an AK-47 to Fiona's head and felt the sickening realization that he would never be able to reach her in time. Adrenalin and fear flooded his veins as he raced into open fire, attempting what he knew was impossible. When the blood exploded outward with the crack of rifle fire it took him a few agonizing seconds to realize that it wasn't Fiona's blood spilling on the ground. Her would-be killer had died from a stray round from his own men. For every close call he and Fiona had ever experienced, they had survived because of talent and training. This time it was sheer luck or the grace of God that he wouldn't be burying the woman he loved.

"If you want to brood for the rest of the night go ahead. I'm going home," she brushed passed him with irritation and dismissal.

He grabbed her arm, spinning her around until she was so close that he could feel the heat of her body. His fingers weaved into her hair and smoothing it away from her face. Looking down into her deep brown eyes, his hand rested on the curve of her hip. She leaned into him, running her hands down the fabric of his t-shirt to feel the muscles beneath.

Before her mind had time to reacted, Michael wrapped his arms around her, pinning her wrists behind her back and stepped towards the bed. In one swift move he sat, bringing her down over his left knee and pinning her legs with his right.

"What the hell are you doing!" she demanded as he tightened his grip on her tiny wrists with his left hand.

Her silk dress was little protection when his hand came down firmly on the curve of her bottom. She jumped reflexively, not believing this was actually happening.

"You didn't have a problem kicking me in the face because I started working with Strickler," he said calmly. "You didn't have a problem stabbing me in Berlin because I wouldn't listen to you or hitting me with a table lamp because you were pissed." His hand came down in short rapid strokes that stung like fire more than hurt.

"Michael! I will kill you for this! Let me up now!" She screamed in a voice accented by her Irish youth. Her body bucked and twisted violently trying to free herself from his grasp. Infuriatingly, his hold never seemed to falter, nor did hand as it methodically worked its way from the center of her bottom to the tops of her thighs. His hand was cupped, created a loud smacking sounded as it landed and echoed through the barren loft.

"And hopefully you will be alive to do try."

She felt the humid air on her skin as he lifted up her dress and her mind raced still not believing that he would actually go through with this. His large, strong hand slid gently under her lace panties pulling then down over her firm round bottom and dropping them to the floor. It certainly wasn't the first time that Michael had seen her naked. There wasn't any part of her body that he hadn't burned into his memory with the reverence of learning a fine sympathy. But this was different somehow, vulnerable. For a woman who worked so hard never to be considered weak or vulnerable that was worse that the stinging swats. Michael hoped to use that fact to get through to her in a way that words alone could not.

He ignored her protests and pressed his forearm gently against her back pinning her body into the mattress to hold her still for the increase in struggling that he knew was about to come.

"Fiona Glenanne," he said in the same firm tone her father used to address her in when she was in trouble as a young girl. Despite his best efforts his voice still betrayed a trace of fear. "I felt my world end when I thought I lost you inside that burning house, when I thought I was going to lose you to O'Brien. You went around me with O'Brien and nearly got yourself killed for no other reason than impatience. And you tried to go around me today, to take on five heavily armed mercenaries just to prove me wrong." His hand fell into an unrelenting rhythm as he spoke.

"You want us to be a team? You have to trust me enough to work with me and know that if something happens to you my world will shatter," for only the third time since she had known him, Fiona heard tears in his voice. "I love you and I can't lose you. "

His hand concentrated a volley of sharp swats to her already warm sit spot, but this time she didn't fight or even squirm. Her body went limp over his knee and he could tell her breath was coming in shallow gasps, but she refused to betray a sound.

"Do you hear me Fiona?" he asked as much for the answer as to hear the strength of her voice. When she didn't answer he landed a single swat to the back of her thigh knowing it would sting more than her bottom. "Answer me."

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a strangled sob. "I'm so sorry."

The sound of her tears cut through him like a knife. He released his hold and gently turned her over in his arms. He sometimes forgot how tiny she was and how easily her body fit in his lap and against his chest. Tears streamed down her face though she didn't make a sound. He wrapped his arm around her waist and weaved his fingered through her hair bringing her head to rest on his shoulder.

"I can't lose," he made to effort to conceal the tears that spilled from his eyes. "I can't lose you."

He lay back on the bed, cradling her body next to him as time stood still and his tears mingled with her own. For the first time in his adult life he no longer cared about hiding his emotions behind a mask of rigid control. The love of his life was lying beside him, safe in his arms. He could no longer deny, even to himself, that his world would end if he ever lost her. No matter what the future had in store for either of them, he swore silently that they would face it together, now and for always.


End file.
